


Jack meets grass, grass likes Jack

by nom



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Crack, Jack Harkness/grass, Jack/grass, Other, PWP, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-28
Updated: 2009-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 04:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nom/pseuds/nom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/omnijaxual/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/omnijaxual/"><b>omnijaxual</b></a> community.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Jack meets grass, grass likes Jack

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/omnijaxual/profile)[**omnijaxual**](http://community.livejournal.com/omnijaxual/) community.

The day is warm and drowsy. The grass is feeling very green and rather bored. It wishes the wind would come, so it could rustle and dance.

Instead of the wind, a man with eyes like sky arrives. He says "...meet at the ship... about an hour," into a device. Then he lies down and falls asleep.

The grass bends over to investigate the man. It tentatively brushes against his clothing, his hands. The hands open, uncurl against the grass. Emboldened, the grass touches his face, his lips. The man says, "Huh, guess I'm not dreaming. So, ah, you wanna?"

* * *

Without clothing the man is even more interesting. The grass ripples against him and he sighs. The man runs his hands over the grass, wriggles his toes around, offers his body for exploration. The grass undulates and strokes him everywhere, again and again.

The grass revels at the sensations of the man's fingertips, his smooth nails, his soft skin and hair. It loves the sounds he makes, his movements, how he tastes like but unlike clean rain and sweet earthworms and heady pollen and rich soft soil. When the man stiffens, cries out, and goes limp the grass susurrates approvingly.

* * *

Putting his clothes back on, Jack feels relaxed, well-rested. Before getting up he runs his hands through the grass one last time; it twines through his fingers. The mingled scents of warm earth, semen, and sunlit grass surround him. In that moment, on that planet, they smell better than any rare incense or perfume could.

He starts walking, then turns around and looks at the grass. It is beautiful, the sun giving the vivid green a golden glow. A patch in the middle looks especially vibrant. "Thank you," he says to the grass, and waves goodbye. The grass waves back.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback? Appreciated, here or [at LJ](http://nomanomynous.livejournal.com/2928.html).


End file.
